


everything about me

by orphan_account



Category: VIXX
Genre: ???? kinda??, Angst, Character Study, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecurity, Self-Hatred, i mean it's pretty implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hongbin always tells himself:breathe in and breathe out. Count from one until ten. Put your hands in your pockets. Don’t talk, or they’ll see how much your voice is shaking, how close it is to the edge of breaking into sobs.It doesn’t work that well. His hands still shake. His voice still wobbles. His breath still gets caught in his throat.





	everything about me

Hongbin always tells himself: _breathe in and breathe out. Count from one until ten. Put your hands in your pockets. Don’t talk, or they’ll see how much your voice is shaking, how close it is to the edge of breaking into sobs._ It doesn’t work that well. His hands still shake. His voice still wobbles. His breath still gets caught in his throat.

Hongbin always gnaws on his lower lip or on the sides of his fingers, or digs his nails into the skin of his arms as he thinks _don’t fucking cry, damn it_ — because he’s a grown man, and grown men don’t quite break down at the sight of everyone looking past him, of being in the middle of it all yet not being the recipient of anything at all.

So he tells himself: _deep breaths, Hongbin. Inhale. Exhale_ as he curls up against the bathroom wall, face buried in his knees. He swallows and stands up on shaking legs and stumbles over to the sink. He splashes water on his face. He looks at his reflection in the mirror.

Hongbin’s got a death grip on the edge of the sink. Color’s draining out of his knuckles. Someone knocks on the door.

“—Hongbinnie?” he hears Jaehwan ask from the other side. _Inhale,_ Hongbin tells himself, _exhale._

“My stomach feels god-awful, hyung,” he forces out, putting as much normalcy into his voice as he can muster. It lapses into silence— nauseating, unnerving, deafening silence— and Hongbin squeezes his eyes shut and prays to God— or Zeus or Allah or _whoever-the-fuck_ is up there— that Jaehwan had simply just left him be, just walked away, even when every fiber of his being wants Jaehwan to stay, wants Jaehwan to ask him if that’s really all it is, wants Jaehwan to—

“Do you want me to get anything for you?” Jaehwan asks softly.

Hongbin purses his lips and looks down on the sink.

“I’ll be out soon,” he says. He hears the shuffling of footsteps, and tries not to cry all over again.

* * *

Perhaps it’s a little bit selfish, Hongbin thinks, expecting everyone to just be able to read his mind, expecting everyone to just adjust for him. They aren’t doing anything wrong, anyway. He should be the one to reach out. He should be the one to tell them. He should be the one to get over his terrible communication skills and just sit down and _say it_.

But he never does do it, because he can always see Jaehwan and Wonshik and Sanghyuk laughing together and he doesn’t want to ruin that. He can always see Hakyeon’s tender, almost motherly glances and he doesn’t want to worry him. He can always see how Taekwoon is way too strung up over a song or a schedule and he doesn’t want to stress him out more.

(And besides, he’s already brought this up the best he can a couple of times. He’s always talked about it whenever Hakyeon would drag them all together to have a little heart-to-heart talk on quieter weekends, just so they can sit around and feel emotional and cry.

And it’s repetitive. It’s the same old sad song. It’s the same old stupid dance. And goodness knows how much more everyone can take before they get tired of it— get tired of _him_.

And Hongbin thinks that’s what scares him the most.)

  


* * *

The thing about Hongbin is that he’s scared of letting himself feel like he fits in.

It’s been over six years since the group had been formed, and these boys are like his brothers, his second family— but sometimes he’s still scared.

Sometimes he still can’t bring himself to understand how he got here.

He’s not particularly talented or skillful. He doesn’t think he’s a good singer. He doesn’t think he can draw. He doesn’t think he can do much else outside sitting around and looking pretty, watching the world go on around him while he stays still.

An old, unmoving statue— perhaps decent-looking, yes, but never really looked at.

Sometimes he still stands idly by whenever there’s a group discussion or an interview. Sometimes he still doesn’t join in as much because he’s terrified of the silence, of the raised eyebrows, of the blatant rejection.

(It’s not quite rejection, but Hongbin often thinks back to a time when he’d been walking with Jaehwan. Then Wonshik’d passed, grinned at Hongbin, then put an arm around Jaehwan’s shoulder as he’d whisked him away all while making conversation so easily that Hongbin somewhat resented him for it.

But Wonshik hadn’t meant anything by it.

_Wonshik hadn’t meant anything by it,_ Hongbin repeats to himself again and again and again whenever the memory comes out of the hole Hongbin had buried it in so that it could ghost the forefronts of his mind and haunt him. _He hadn’t meant anything by it_.

Thinking about it still stings.)

Because he thinks that if he lets his guard down, if he— for just one moment— allows himself to smile and laugh freely and feel like he truly _does_ belong, he’d be doing nothing but setting himself up for disappointment.

(One of the things he’s learned is that it’s less painful to know beforehand that you _don’t_ belong rather than fooling yourself into believing that you do.

He thinks it started way back in elementary school, back when there had been exchange students, and everyone had been excited. His classmates had invited the new kids to play dodgeball. Hongbin’d said he’d join. He’d been excited.

He loved playing dodgeball.

So they picked the teams, and Hongbin had stood in the middle, bouncing on the balls of his feet from the sheer excitement. The game began. He’d started running, dodging, and everything had been going fine until—

A classmate tapped his shoulder.

“Why are you here?”

The world had stopped.

The ball had been a blur as it flew past his face, just a couple inches too short.

He’d always been in the middle of everything, but at the same time the subject of nothing at all.)

Sometimes he still looks down and picks at the hem of his shirt whenever he has to sit between Wonshik and Jaehwan, because surely those two would be enjoying themselves more if he wasn’t in the way. Surely they’d be laughing together already. Surely they’d have no awkward silence, no painfully unfunny jokes that Hongbin cracks just so somebody would interact with him even if it was only to send him an unimpressed stare. Sometimes he still mocks them out of the blue just so they’d just look at him or banter back or _Jesus Christ even just get mad at him—_

And every time he finds himself doing that, every time he hears himself spill out a couple of light insult or jabs, every time he quips something at one of the other members, one of the other idols, one of his friends— _Stop,_ he’d tell himself, _Shut up. You’re making this worse for yourself._

He’d pick at his arms ‘til his skin would turn red. He’d pull his hair. He’d bite his lips bloody and try not to cry. He’d scream at himself to _Shut up, shut up, shut up, mouth stop fucking talking—_

But he never could stop.

He’d see Hakyeon look away. He’d see Taekwoon go quiet. He’d feel Sanghyuk fidgeting slightly against him.

_Why can’t you just shut the fuck up and stop._

Maybe it’s because bad jokes and poor attempts at banter and mockery are the only ways he can think of to stop the silence. Maybe he’s just that desperate to fill the nothingness up with words and emotions.

* * *

It’s suffocating.

It’s like Hongbin can feel his bandmates getting bored of him. It’s like he can feel their patience wearing out. It’s like he can feel Wonshik paying less attention with every word that comes out of his mouth. It’s like he can feel Sanghyuk wanting to finish a Mario Kart level faster just to get away. It’s like he can feel Hakyeon sigh disappointedly at him.

(He can almost see the pitying expression in Hakyeon’s eyes, all too clearly.)

He wonders, sometimes, if they talk about him behind his back. The thought makes his skin crawl; makes him wrap his arms around himself tightly.

The room is suffocating.

It’s just him, and Taekwoon, and Jaehwan in the dining room. Taekwoon’s looking at a bunch of sheet music with his eyebrows furrowed, and Hongbin wonders if he’s thinking about how the hell he’s supposed to be making a decent song while at the same time putting Hongbin’s terrible vocals into consideration.

He can see Jaehwan getting even more restless.

He wants to say something.

He wants to talk.

He hates the silence so much, and he knows Jaehwan hates it even more— but Jaehwan is quiet. And Hongbin can’t help but think about how much better Jaehwan’s mood would beif Hongbin had a schedule instead of Wonshik or Sanghyuk or Hakyeon.

He opens his mouth.

“I need to go to the bathroom—”

His voice is faint. It breaks in the middle. Jaehwan looks up worriedly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Hongbin’s voice is still so fucking _small_ , and he hates it, he hates how weak and vulnerable he feels. “I’ll just—”

He stands and rushes off. When he’s right outside the bathroom, he— for a single moment— allows himself to feel loved and cared for, and takes the chance of glancing behind him to see if anyone had followed.

Nobody’s there.

Hongbin’s bare feet hit cold bathroom tiles. He locks the door behind him, crumples to the ground and folds his legs against his chest.

Then, he buries his face in his arms and lets himself cry.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm worn down and tired and this is probably really badly written but i needed to vent really badly and i was getting tired of telling nobody but my stupid diary and i'mm so sorry for dumping all of my teen angst shit on you, hongbin, you don't deserve this and i love you so much okay you're beautiful and amazing and wonderful.
> 
> but hey, im alive.
> 
> title taken from [this song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5m_W31hDeU). alternatively titled 'hongbin in the bathroom'.
> 
> til next time. :)
> 
> -nyx


End file.
